Page 73 of Given to the Fae
‘No, you did this perfectly. You even put the herbs in the right pouches. Thank you.’
I can’t help the joyous smile that alights my face at his unexpected praise, and the accompanying warmth that floods me takes me by surprise. My cheeks are hot with it. No one’s ever given me thanks before or even told me I did something well.
His eyes widen as he sees the effect his words have on me. Perhaps I should have tried to conceal it. I’ve given him something he might use against me. But I don’t think I could have hidden my feelings even if I’d wanted to, they’re so powerful I can hardly breathe. I look away first, trying to push it away before I make an even bigger fool of myself, and I see that the storm outside is abating. Perhaps that means we’ll go soon.
As if hearing my thoughts, Locke glances outside.
‘As soon as Morgan gets back, we’ll leave.’ He lets out a sound of annoyance. ‘Actually, grab his things. I don’t want to miss the Bridge because he decided to devolve. We’ll get him on the way. I know where he’ll be.’
Jak gathers Morgan’s possessions from his room, and we depart. In the courtyard, the horses are ready for us and, although I may miss the wonders of the inn we were staying in, I’ll be glad to see the back of Death City with its plethora of mages, and magickal storms. The streets are quiet after the rains, and I follow Locke as I lead Morgan’s steed in the direction of the river I could see from the balcony earlier.
On the way, Jak sees a stall of potions and is able to buy a few healing vials. He looks relieved, muttering something about not being able to find any before this in Dead City because an ingredient is in short supply at the moment.
We continue on and find ourselves in front of a nondescript bridge that I can’t see under. It’s too dark though it’s not so wide that I shouldn’t be able to see out the other end. To me it looks more like a tunnel.
‘A conjure,’ Jak murmurs from next to me as he glances at Locke. ‘Shall I go in after him, or do you want to do it?’
Locke sighs and hands Jak the reins. ‘I’ll go.’
He walks into the shadows and completely disappears into the darkness as if he’s going through a thick curtain.
‘The fights are in there?’ I ask. ‘I thought they were usually out in the open.’
Jak nods and hands me the skin with the hated tea in it so I don’t get Gate Sick.
‘Grey ones are in the open. This one will be a black fight. No rules and no restrictions on wagers.’
I take a gulp of the tea, grimace, and swallow.
‘And Morgan likes these?’
Jak shrugs. ‘Morgan grew up in streets like these. He was fighting the bigger boys in black rings before he could talk in full sentences.’
My eyes widen. I’ve always sort of assumed that all the creatures bar humans lived charmed lives, that they never had to fight if they didn’t want to, do tasks they didn’t feel like. What Jak is saying about Morgan doesn’t fit with what I thought I knew.
‘And you?’ I ask. ‘Did you grow up thus?’
He shakes his head. ‘As a boy, I lived with fae who were given Skills through Dark conjures. When none manifested for me, I apprenticed as a healer. I thought to help others.’
He suddenly seems very interested in his horse’s bridle.
I have questions, but I know he probably won’t humor my curiosity, so don’t ask about the Dark conjures, or the Skills that were given to his fae friends. But I’m bursting with them even though I know that his past, like his present, isn’t my concern.
‘You aren’t a healer anymore?’ I can’t help but ask.
He shrugs. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’
He looks at me with a bemused expression. ‘Were you born a slave?’
A bit taken aback at his cold, almost angry tone, I answer truthfully. ‘I don’t know.’
Jak turns to face me fully, looking incredulous. ‘You don’t know?’
I remember the book in the room, and an uncomfortable feeling I don’t understand washes over me.
‘They said I came to The Barrack as a child,’ I murmur, wondering why I’m telling him something I’ve never talked to anyone else about, ‘but I don’t remember anything before that place.’
